A Field Called Home
by Qwara
Summary: Cybele is an ordinary Rattata who has an extraordinary adventure and tries to set aside her prejudices towards Pokémon trainers. No longer updating.
1. Only A Memory

Tall blades of grass towered over Cybele's small, rodent-like body. The fragrance of ripened berries teased her nostrils, her nose twitching in the air with anticipation. A warm breeze drifted through the balmy summer air and ruffled her soft lilac pelt. The summer had been especially hot, and today was no different. The sun had scorched the grasses so that they were tinted a brilliant golden. The sky was a radiant azure with not a cloud in sight; and in the center was the large, blinding sun, which shone on the expansive field with as little ruthlessness as ever. Cybele kept her ruby-colored eyes fixed on the ground as she padded towards where her children frolicked together.

It was almost expected of a sensible Rattata to gnaw and eat anything, and, more importantly, to reproduce. Cybele was no exception. She was hailed by many as perfectly average. She had fifty children, forty of whom were grown and no longer needed her adamant attention. However, the other ten were as rambunctious as any other group of kittens. A mother's work was never done.

She observed quietly as her children played amongst themselves, nibbling idly on one of the abundant grass blades. Chi chased Sapphire through the field. Yitro ate to his content, satiating himself with a small wild strawberry plant. Jacinta and Naff napped beneath the chinaberry tree. Its glossy, deep green leaves rattled and shined in the zephyr. Its long branches extended far from its trunk, providing a shady haven for flora and fauna alike. Rangsey looked to the skies as a peaceful flock of Pidgeys flew through the field. They made no noise except the rush of their wings. Yasmin, Tadeo, Faith and Oren skulked through the meadow, entertaining themselves with their own game. Cybele, satisfied, could no longer resist the lure of the berries. She spied a strawberry patch which Yitro had not yet reached and headed towards it.

She buried her muzzle in the rich, jade foliage of the wild strawberries, their jagged edges brushing against her fur. The juices from the bright red fruit dripped down her throat, and she savored its sugary consistency. A clear day, many beautiful children, a satisfying meal—what more could she ask for? She rejoiced in the ecstasy of the moment, until she remembered him. She pulled away from the strawberry patch, brushing her snowy white whiskers against in the grass. He had haunted her thoughts ever since he had been gone. She had tried to let go, but the memories kept drawing her in. She could remember how his pelt glistened after a long bath, the twinkle in his eyes when he would be presented with a good meal.

"Mama," said a calm, collected voice. Cybele brushed away the tears that welled in her eyes and looked towards her addresser.

"Regina," replied she, attempting to maintain her composure. She followed her daughter to the chinaberry tree, where she laid down across the grass, short and green beneath the shade of the great tree. She looked so much like him. Cybele folded her limbs beneath her small frame, her long, curled tail laying flat against the cool ground. She and her daughter shared a silence, the only sounds those of the children speaking with each other and their frenzied movements as they frisked about.

"Have the children been good to you?" asked Regina. Her ears twitched when Tadeo released a playful screech. Of all of Cybele's children, she assumed Regina to be the most polite. She would not have exchanged a foul word even with her most loathed enemy, although Cybele assumed that her daughter had none. She knew not how it pleased her mother to have a visit from one of her first children. Lily had long departed with her mate and the others simply could never find the time to see their mother when they had their own affairs to be taken care of. But it seemed as if time was no factor for Regina, as she always seemed to go about her business very slowly, taking care to observe everything around her. It was an idiosyncrasy that she had also noticed in him. Although her daughter was most beloved to her, it was at times painful when she made comparisons such as these.

"As well-behaved as you could expect children to be," Cybele responded. An amiable expression spread across her daughter's features. Behind them, Jacinta stirred. She let out a large yawn as she awoke from her light nap. She stumbled about, brushing off traces of the bark of the chinaberry tree from her fur. She saw her sister and mother nearby and meandered towards them with a drowsy look in her eye.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" she asked blearily, situating herself across from her two relatives.

"We're discussing how naughty you've been," said Regina with a mischievous grin. Jacinta giggled in the peculiar, high-pitched squeak that was unique to her. Cybele agreed with Regina, sending Jacinta into further hysterics.

"You guys are lying!" exclaimed Jacinta once she had ceased her laughing.

"Geez Jaci, you're gonna wake the dead with that laugh," mumbled a fourth voice groggily. Cybele observed that Naff, too, had awoken.

"It's Reggi's fault, she's funny!" protested his sister. Naff, recognizing that he would no longer be able to sleep, decided to join his sisters and mother in their small conversation circle. He had deeper colored fur than his female counterparts, but it was also more ruffled and unkempt. They sat and discussed trivial things, although Naff was most keen on complaining about his littermate's tendency to laugh at things which were, in reality, not the slightest bit amusing. Cybele did not have any preference on the direction in which their talk headed, because she found any moment spent with her children a refreshing one. To know that, although he was gone, her offspring were still plentiful and able to accompany her was a relief.

"I remember Daddy used to pick me strawberries all the time on pretty days like today," Jacinta recounted. Naff began his own conversation with his sister as they reminisced of things that their father used to do. Regina was silent, realizing the sensitivity of such talk with her mother present. Cybele looked mournful, and soon she could feel the tears gathering once more. She looked at all of her beautiful children—all without a father. It was only she, the solitary parent. It was the only aspect of her ordinary existence which threatened to cause it to be any less. Naff observed his mother's dampening spirits, and attempted to make amends to the topic of the conversation.

"It's too bad Daddy had to leave with that mean trainer," added Naff quickly. However, this did not have the desired effect on Cybele. She burst into tears and left towards the base of the chinaberry tree. She slumped against its sturdy trunk, the coarse bark caressing her thin body as she drowned in her sorrow. She missed him so desperately. He was her mate. Her first love and her only love. But he had gone. Whether it was of his own will or not was a question that lingered in Cybele's mind; a question which had never been answered. She could never forgive the human who had taken her dearest Rattata away from her. The humans were selfish, cruel creatures who thought of nothing than the glory upon entering an arena, the thrill of a fight, the taste of victory. Was it only the simple Pokémon who could appreciate the pleasures of a sweet-tasting berry and the company of one's offspring?

Naff and Jacinta motioned to comfort their weeping mother, their faces ones of deep concern. Regina shook her head and motioned for them to not go.

"Leave her be, she'll be all right," she instructed them. They were still, and soon the other children had noticed Cybele's melancholy state and soon joined their elder sister, heeding her advice to allow her mother to sob in silence.

"Mama isn't gonna leave us too, is she?" asked Faith of her sister concernedly. This began the worried murmur of voices from all of the children, but they were soon silenced by Regina, who appeared not to be rattled.

"Mama would never leave us," Regina told her siblings matter-of-factly.


	2. Infinity

Dusk was drawing to an end. The brilliant hues of pink and red had faded, with only the faintest traces of light remaining in the sky. Across the horizon there were only deep blues that lingered, and they melted into the inky blackness of the east. The stars glimmered on their dark canvas, and the pale light of a crescent moon cast dark shadows across the flat terrain of the meadow. Cybele admired the heavens from her position just free from what seemed to her like infinite darkness cast by the chinaberry tree, feeling insignificant compared to the celestial bodies that floated above her. She was but a mere Rattata, intimidated by creatures as tiny as humans. She had never been beyond the confines of the field; she had never needed anything that she couldn't find there.

There was a slight rustling in the grass behind her, and she turned. She saw a pair of eyes peering through the long blades of grass, like bright red gems in a dark, desolate world. It was Yitro. He settled himself beside his mother, his large, swelled belly protruding from his round figure. They did not speak, but instead tried to comprehend infinity. The sky looked into infinity, yet it did not seem a just representation. It was a distance which a small Pokémon could not understand in any way. Her thoughts drifted once more to him; he was the only thing which she could ever compare to infinity, the only thing that could give her a hold on what such immensity might mean. Her undying love for him was infinite. The wish that she could once again nuzzle him in a calm night, when the only sound the disrupted the silence that blanketed the landscape was the occasional faint hooting of a Hoothoot.

Yitro possessed a quality that seemed to sedate Cybele. He was not like Regina, in that she was most comfortable with conversation, while Yitro enjoyed the silence. It was not something that Cybele had the privilege of enjoying often since she was constantly being questioned by her children about this and that. She longed to bring herself closer to her son, to close her eyes and imagine that it was not he whom she snuggled with, but her long-gone beloved. But when she reexamined the thought, she found that it would only upset her further. Regina had long advised her to let go, but she wanted to hold on. The thought that he might one day return was a concept that she could not release. If she lost her faith, she felt that she would lose everything. Not even Regina could understand that.

Cybele heard the faint murmur of voices and the sound of footsteps. The babble grew louder as the approaching figures grew closer, although when Cybele looked in the direction she could see nothing but a cluster of shadows. Her children approaching was comparable to a car wreck bound to happen, but was inevitable to avoid. Yitro lifted his bulky frame and disappeared into the blackness beneath the shade of the chinaberry tree. He had never appreciated the company of his siblings. Cybele too stood, waiting for her offspring to come to her. She yawned, finding herself exhausted. Her eyelids felt as if they were lined with lead, and she longed to sleep, curled up with all of her beautiful children surrounding her.

"Mama," said Tadeo, "what's the name of this field? 'Cause I was talkin' with a Spearow and it was sayin' that all these places got names."

"Mama," continued Yasmin, "we were _all_ talkin' with the Spearow, and I told it that the field was called home. He thought that was real funny!"

"Yeah, Mama!" added Rangsey, "He said, 'A field called home? Now that's the silliest thing I've ever heard!'"

She smiled at how her children fretted over something so trivial. They eagerly awaited her answer, which she was in no hurry to give. She thought over the question and realized that she did not actually know what the name of the meadow in which they lived in. It had never occurred to her to find out; it was home. She had never traveled from it so there was no reason for her to refer to it as anything but home. The silence continued, the anticipation of her children filling the air, as she drew it out for melodramatic effect. Cybele had always had a tendency to want to say something that would dazzle her audience, and it was situations such as these which gave her a peculiar thrill.

"That Spearow doesn't know what he's talking about," she informed her children, "this field is called home. It always has been, and it always will be."

"I toldja!" interjected Yasmin, "I toldja the field was called home!"

"Don't get all cocky, Yasmin," warned Naff, "or me and Chi are gonna bite at your toes to get you up in the morning!" Yasmin looked deeply offended and strode away.

"Be nice to your sister, now," said Cybele in a serious, maternal tone. Naff mumbled an apology and disappeared after Yasmin. The rest of the children talked idly for several minutes of the day's events and milled about in the darkness until they all came to the conclusion that they were very tired and wanted to go to sleep. Cybele was far from being opposed to this proposition, and they all chose to seek comfort beneath the chinaberry tree.

They nestled closely together near the trunk of the tree. Cybele laid her head on the soft belly of one of her children, feeling his chest slowly heave as he inhaled and exhaled his breaths. It was a slow, steady rhythm that Cybele soon found herself in synch with. It seemed that, as sleep began to overcome her, that everything was synchronized in that one moment before she slipped into unconsciousness. For that one fleeting moment everything was purposeful, it all suddenly made sense to her. It was a moment that she soon forgot.

A hazy fog enveloped Cybele. She could barely make out the features that surrounded her. She saw a shadow move from the corner of her eye. Tense, she turned about and watched the shadow. It moved slowly, unsurely, with an evident limp. It was not an unfamiliar silhouette that was formed, for it was one of a fellow Rattata. She dug her claws into the earth beneath her, which was cool and firm, like clay. She could almost smell the fear in the air, the unsettling heaviness that dominated the vicinity.

She felt a puff of warm air brush against the back of her neck, sending tingles down her spine. She shuddered and saw that the shadow was no longer within her plane of view. She turned towards where the breath had originated and saw a face. It was a most welcome face, with its familiar, friendly features. Suddenly, the fear, the heaviness, the uncertainty died away. In its wake was a warmness which Cybele found foreign to her, for she had not felt it in such a long time. It was a sense of completeness, a feeling of everything that she had experienced in that one moment before she fell asleep. It was a feeling that she had felt every night before she fell asleep, but had never noticed. However, it was undeniable now.

The fog faded, revealing a brilliant terrain. They were in a fabulous valley, even more magnificent than the one in which she called home. Dogwood trees bore pink and white blossoms, which occasionally drifted towards the vibrant, thriving grasses. There were wildflowers strewn along the edges of the valley, with colors ranging from pale yellows to rich, majestic purples. Beyond the valley was a forest, with handsome, broadleaf trees mixed with pines and thick shrubbery. The landscape was brilliantly untainted by human hands, a sense of wildness that made her feel exquisitely alive. The perfume of jasmine filled the lightness of the air, and soon she saw that she trod upon the white blossoms of the flower, replacing the clay which she had stood upon only moments before.

"Oh, my love, if only you knew how long I have waited for this day," she murmured, nuzzling her mate. Birds serenaded the reunited lovers from somewhere in the distance, their joyful tune echoing through the immensity of infinity. Nothing could possibly destroy this; Cybele was in a heavenly delirium.

"My dear, I fear that we must part again."

Cybele cried out in exasperation. She opened her eyes and saw that her children were all looking down upon her, smothering her with their close proximity. She stared upon them all blankly for several moments, training to gather her thoughts. It had all been a dream. An eerie feeling enveloped her. She could still taste the sweetness of the air, smell the jasmine, see the dogwood trees, hear the birds—but it was only her mind which had caused her to sense all of this. It was a disappointment beyond any which she had ever felt.

"Mama's gone mad," whispered Sapphire.


	3. Tutelage

Tiny droplets of mist clung to the grass in the chilly morning. The colors of the landscape were dulled by the dim light that reached from across the horizon in the east as dawn approached. Cybele's children had been upset by her cries when she awoke from her dream, and it had taken considerable time to convince them that she had only had a nightmare. This lead to a conversation of recounting nightmares, and despite her children's insistence, Cybele would not describe her own dream. Not even she was willing to relive it; not yet.

The faint cries of a flock of Pidgey could be heard in the distance. For what reason, Cybele did not know. As she lifted her head into the air, there was an unmistakable scent that she did not recognize. It was one of a strange Pokémon. She observed her children as their talk died down and they too occupied themselves with their own thoughts, gazing into the distance as they engaged in their own silent reverie. Cybele felt her stomach lurch with hunger, and she knew that it was time for breakfast. She could worry about the stranger later; for now, it was food that engaged her mind.

"Come, we are going to head to the creek," she informed her offspring. She began to walk leisurely towards the familiar drinking and bathing area. Soon she could hear the faint trickle of water of the brook as it ran through the field, splashing against its smooth bed of rock and pebbles. Once they had reached the creek, the children quickly immersed themselves in the shallow water. When there was a hard rain, the sound of the water rushing was unmistakable; but with the scarcity of the rain, there was only a faint trickle that emanated from the brook. The water was free of Water Pokémon, too shallow to support any life.

The mud and grime that had settled at the bed of the brook was stirred by the splashing of her children, coloring the clear water. She headed further up the creek, and at last dipped her head into the warm water and drank deeply. She had been parched, and now the only thing that was needed to satisfy her was the taste of the summer berries. She listened contentedly to the delighted squeals of her children at play. They were so full of energy and life, and had not the time to sit back and simply drink. She heard the slight sound of footsteps from behind her and turned, seeing that Yitro had once more passed on the festivities of play.

"Mama, something isn't right," he said as he approached his mother. Cybele inhaled again, finding that the unfamiliar scent had grown stronger. She stood and faced away from the creek.

"A trespasser has come to the field," she informed her son grimly. They shared an expression of deep worry. Cybele looked once again upon her children. If anything were to hurt them, she would never be able to rest well at night. She came to the conclusion that she had to take appropriate measures to prevent this from happening.

"Take your brothers and sisters to the bushes, and I shall take care of this," she instructed Yitro. He nodded solemnly and began to carry his heavy form towards the others. She could not hear what he said to them, but they immediately ceased their play and followed their brother single-file. They were playful kittens, but they were not so foolish as to not know when it was time to be serious.

The bushes were a thick grouping of shrubs on the south side of the field. It was a hotspot of plenty when the bearberries ripened, yielding a delicious feast of the small, spherical red berries. Heath was abundant in the area, with their tall, jade stems covered with thin needles. They bore deep pink blossoms which Cybele thought were nearly the most beautiful flowers in all the meadow. Its only successor was the vibrant orange lilies which grew at the edge of the brook where it entered the forest. Cybele had never ventured far into the forest. When she was a kit her mother had told her that there were human trails throughout the forest, and large bug Pokémon which could make a quick meal of a Rattata.

She picked up the scent once more which wafted through the air, and began to follow it. She walked through the creek, her small white paws becoming dampened when they contacted the water. It grew stronger as she progressed, until it was the only thing that she could smell any longer. She had never smelled such a Pokémon. She only hoped that it was docile. But she was willing to sacrifice herself if it would make a meal of her rather than her children. She was not a fighter, but she had hoped to sort the ordeal through peacefully. Whether this was a wise decision or not was not an idea which crossed through the determined Rattata's mind.

The sun, at this point, had nearly risen so that the entire glowing, white orb in the sky was visible. The landscape was once again fully colored, and the squawking of the Pidgeys had long passed. As the scent grew even stronger, Cybele's chest began to thump more loudly, and her breath became shallower as she realized that she may have gotten herself into more than she was ready for. She had not yet encountered the intruder, but she could taste the fear in the air. It was several moments before she realized this fear was her own.

"Well, hello there," said a melodic voice. The words rolled smoothly off of its tongue, and its unmistakably female ring was soothing yet perturbing all at once. Cybele lifted her head, now trembling with fear.

She was met with a pair of golden eyes. Its pupils were small, beady slits through the center of them. As she backed away she observed the coiled stance of the strange creature before her. It was covered in smooth, violet scales with a golden ring across its neck. It flicked the end of its long, yellow tail, causing a distinct rattling sound. Its forked tongue darted in and out of its mouth, making a soft, involuntary hissing sound. Cybele stood, petrified in fear, unsure of what to do. She had never seen a creature by the likes of this before. It was only the Spearows, the Pidgeys, the Weedles and the Caterpies which frequented the field other than the abundance of Rattatas. It twisted its long, legless body around, revealing its yellow underside before settling itself once again.

"Don't be alarmed, dear," it told her. The tone of the voice sounded friendly, but she could place no trust in those gleaming, mistrustful eyes. "I won't hurt you if you cooperate."

"Do what you want with me," Cybele told the strange creature, trying to sound collected, "but leave my children be."

"Ah, yes," replied the trespasser coolly, "all Rattatas have children, don't they? Well, I suspect that my master will not want much to do with them. It is you she wants." Cybele felt light-headed; her master? It could only mean that there was a human. The foreign creature's eyes flashed and the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard. The intruder did not turn its head, but simply stared, unblinking, at Cybele. Its leer seemed to prevent her from moving or saying anything further.

Her eyes moved towards the approaching figure. It was at least five times her size, its long, lanky body soaring above her like a skyscraper. She saw a freckled, human face. The girl was fair-skinned with freckles dotting her complexion. She smiled widely, revealing a pair of braces which glimmered in the young sunlight. She shoved her round spectacles up the bridge of her small nose. She had dusty blonde locks of hair that protruded from the sides of her head in loose pigtails. She wore a colorful, flowery blouse and plain blue jeans which had a tear in the knee. But Cybele had the best view of her sneakers, worn and holey with bright green shoelaces. She sat on her haunches, observing the Rattata. Cybele saw, in horror, the thin belt which was tied around her waist, with several red-and-white Pokéballs attached. She stroked the serpentine creature next to her.

"You did such a good job, Ekans!" she praised the creature. The snake Pokémon looked solemn, and carefully removed itself from beneath the human's grasp.

"My name is Heulwen. Get it right or I'm going to start calling you 'Human'," she told her trainer scornfully, in not such a charming voice as she had spoken to Cybele. The human seemed to make no regard for her Pokémon's scolding, and instead fumbled with the Pokéballs clasped to her belt. Cybele wanted to run, but when she tried to move it seemed her muscles were incapable of doing such. She felt as if it took all of the power within her to simply stand.

"I apologize for this," Heulwen said to Cybele, her seductive tone of voice returning once more, "but I had no choice. My master tends to have a—what is the word—hissy fit, if I do not obey. I think you will find that she is most obnoxious."

Those were the last words that Cybele comprehended before she saw a flash of blinding bright light, and collapsed into unconsciousness.


	4. The New World

"You got a Rattata? You're really lowering your standards, Ann," said a voice. Cybele opened her eyes. Her vision was blurred. She could see the rough outline of a human face, presumably the one which had spoken and had awoken her. She dug her claws into the surface below her, but found that it was unusually hard and smooth. She attempted to stand, but instead slid and fell on the slippery surface. She heard several chuckles as she struggled to gather herself. She blinked several times, her vision improving. She could clearly see the human boy's face now.

He had narrow, beady dark brown eyes. His nose was upturned at its end, revealing his small, round nostrils. His complexion was blotched with blemishes and he had a strange, lop-sided smile. His hair was jet black, curly and very unkempt. He reached out one of his fingers and patted Cybele roughly on the head. She jerked away. She needed to find her children; they would be looking for her. She backed away from the groping hand of the ugly human. She felt her hindquarters slip, and she dangled from the edge of the strange object that she was lying upon. She desperately scratched at the edge of the russet surface. Cybele observed that it had dark lines running through it, swirling and curving at random. She saw a tree once whose bark had been eaten by a Pokémon, and found that it looked vaguely similar to the stripped tree; except it was not round.

As she desperately clung to the odd thing, she felt something on her rump. It pushed her back onto the peculiar floating plateau.

"Silly Rattata; you're gonna fall off the table!" spoke another voice; one that Cybele had heard before. It was the girl who she had seen with the Ekans. She appeared into her view, sitting next to the boy. She seemed quite pleased with herself, although Cybele was feeling very self-conscious as they both stared at her as if she was on display. So they called what sat on a table.

"Sort of ugly, don't you think? Nasty-lookin' teeth," remarked the boy. Cybele's expression contorted in surprise. How dare he insult her! When she told her children of how rude the humans were to her, they would be as outraged as she was. She could imagine what they would say—_Mama, _we_ think you're real pretty!_

"I can hear you, you know," Cybele retorted scornfully. The humans laughed again.

"Look Tad, it squeaks!" exclaimed Ann. Cybele tilted her head to the side in confusion. She did not squeak; she spoke. Deciding that she didn't like these human children one bit, she closed her mouth and stared down at her paws. They were no longer muddy or damp from treading through the brook.

"Don't bother trying to talk to them," said a third, male voice, "they can't understand." Startled, Cybele glanced around. She looked up and saw that the sky looked very strange. It lay low and flat, like very thick clouds. The large white blocks that the sky was composed of were held together with long metal strips that ran the length of what seemed to be a very peculiar valley. The sides of the valley were short and perfectly straight, and also white like what she assumed to be the clouds. There were rectangular holes in the center of the sides, and she saw what seemed to be a very strange world. The ground through the hole was a deep charcoal color, and there were large boulders grouped beside the straight stretch of ground that were, like the walls of the valley, perfectly shaped. Some were giant cubes and prisms, and some came to peaks at the top. Humans were everywhere. They went in and out of the boulders, and it only occurred to Cybele then that they must be hollow, and that she must be in one of them right now.

Once she had gazed in awe at the odd landscape, she turned her head and saw that there were many tables such as the one she sat on. Some were longer and narrower than others, and she saw that they did not float, but were supported by thin columns beneath them. Humans gathered around them, sitting upon strange instruments which seemed to be portable, as they slid them this way and that. She saw another, lower table, which had a faded blue cushion upon it. The color of the cushion reminded her of the sky's hue at dusk.

Sitting on this strange object was what appeared to be an uprooted tulip. It had a thin, brown stem which divided into two sections of roots. In the center of its slender stem were two large spade-shaped leaves that spread out from it. Perched on the frail base was a large, bright yellow blossom. It drooped below the top of the stem. The edges of its petals were lined in a soft, fleshy pink. It was only upon closer examination that Cybele realized that the tulip had eyes. She gasped in surprise when it moved.

"You don't get out much, do you?" asked the tulip-like creature, noticing her puzzlement. A small smile spread across its lips. She stared at it unabashedly. She had never seen a flower that talked to her before. She realized that its voice was the same one who had informed her that the humans could not understand her speech. It lifted one of its leaves, which were apparently utilized as limbs, and rested it upon a metal bar which protruded from the plateau.

"What are you?" asked Cybele in amazement.

"I'm a Bellsprout. The name's Jeremy. And what is yours, confused Rattata?"

"Cybele. How do I get out of here? I need to find my kittens."

"I'm afraid you can't get out of here. Ann owns you now. That's the girl's name, you know. She's my master too." Jeremy stood up from the odd sitting instrument and strode in Cybele's direction. "And the boy, he is called Tad. But his real name's Timothy."

Cybele observed as Ann fumbled with something in a large knapsack she carried. She pulled out a glass vial which appeared to be filled with a thick, blue liquid. It was held shut with a piece of cork. Cybele looked upon it with interest. She had thought that water was the only substance which was not solid. Ann struggled to open the vial, and eventually successfully did so with assistance from Tad. Ann then pulled the loose skin on the back of Cybele's neck and dragged her towards her. Cybele struggled, unsure of what was happening, but before she could think of her next action of protest, the liquid in the vial was being poured down her throat. It was creamy, and she swallowed it with some difficulty, but its taste was strangely agreeable. There was a slight sweetness about it, accompanied by a tanginess that reminded Cybele of a tart fruit. When the vial had been drained, Ann loosened her grip and placed the empty vial into a tall, hollow gray cylinder perched on the ground which was as smooth and solid as the tabletop. Cybele saw that its inside was lined with a shiny black film of some sort, and there were other strange things placed in it as well as the vial.

A few moments after she had finished drinking the strange substance, she found that she was feeling suddenly energized. It was an energy which she could usually only obtain from a long afternoon nap, but it seemed that whatever she had drank had fulfilled the same void. She felt as if she could run and romp for an eternity; race to the end of the world.

"What was that blue-colored water?" Cybele asked, looking at the Bellsprout who was now contenting himself by trying to catch the attention of another female Pokémon, although Cybele did not recognize what species it was. There were so many strange creatures and objects in the land of the humans! Jeremy started, unprepared for the abrupt interrogation, and then took a few moments before he composed himself and said in a bored tone,

"It was a Potion. It gives you energy."

"I do feel energized! Why do I need this much energy?" Cybele had many questions to ask about this new, strange world. She was so caught up in the moment, and taking in all of her foreign surroundings, that she had nearly forgotten about her now motherless kittens back in the field which she had known by no other name than home. It was she who was the child now, eager to be taught by the seemingly omniscient Jeremy.

"What do you think you need it for?"

Cybele paused. She remembered that the humans enjoyed battling the Pokémon which they 'owned' with each other. "Fighting?"

"Very good; but that's not all you'll need it for."

"What do you mean?" Cybele inquired breathlessly, speaking so quickly that she could scarcely be understood. She was impatient to learn more, know more.

But once again, she could see nothing but a blinding white light, which seemed to shine through every fiber of her being, and surround her completely. And then, the room was gone to her, and she felt extremely dizzy and disoriented, unable to comprehend what had materialized before her.


End file.
